Helping Tim
by Essie20
Summary: Tony forgot his keys at work... again! But when he arrives at work to get his keys, he unexpectantly finds out that Tim hasn't left to go home yet. What's going on? Why is Tim still there? Rated T for some language. One-shot.


**I love NCIS and I love Tony and Tim. I just don't like that the two don't have many 'brotherly' moments in the show. So I wrote my own! My awesome beta reader is ****tashayar333! She helped get out all my mistakes, haha. :)**

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Tony sighed and stared impatiently at the changing lights next to the floor numbers, waiting. He was not happy. Forgetting his house keys at work for the second time this week? Nobody was that stupid. He hadn't noticed that he'd forgotten them, because he hadn't gone home right away. He'd first gone to the movie theater to watch a movie, to relax a little after the hard day of work he'd had. He'd been so excited to go to watch the movie, that he'd completely forgotten his keys.

The elevator dinged. He looked at his watch and sighed again, eleven pm. He hurriedly walked out of the elevator before the doors were even completely open yet and walked into the bullpen straight to his desk. There they were. Just lying there on his desk. Not aware of the trouble they'd caused him.

Just as he was about to grab his keys, he suddenly heard a clicking sound coming from his left. The kind of clicking when someone typed on a keyboard. Confused and slightly curious he turned to see who was apparently typing. To his surprise, he saw Tim sitting at his desk, typing. The first thing that came to mind was to make some kind of joke about Tim not having a social life. But Tony quickly realized that something was wrong. It was 11 pm and Tim was still here. He never did that unless they were on an important case, but they weren't. They had caught the murderer today. So why was he still here? He looked at Tim more closely. He was very furiously typing and didn't seem to notice that Tony was there. Tony lowered his hand, which had still been hovering over his keys.

"Tim?" he asked. Tim didn't look up.

"Tim?" he said in a louder voice. Tim still didn't seem to hear him.

"Tim!" he yelled, hoping that he would finally hear him.

Finally he got a reaction. Slowly Tim looked up from his computer screen. When he finally meet eyes with Tony, Tony was hit with the immense sadness that seemed to be in Tim's eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"Uhm," Tony started, not really knowing what to say or ask next. "It's eleven pm."

Tony cringed, way to state the obvious.

Tim looked at his watch. His furrowed his eyebrows, telling Tony that Tim hadn't seemed to realize that it was so late.

"Oh," Tim replied softly.

"Why are you still here?" Tony asked, trying to be more direct.

"Dunno," Tim replied, turning his attention back to his screen.

Something is very wrong, Tony thought. Tim was acting strange. Kind of like he was sleepwalking, or like he wasn't really comprehending what Tony was saying to him.

"Tim, the case is closed. Gibbs gave us tomorrow off. We don't have to be here until Friday. Why are you still here?" Tony tried again, hoping to finally get an answer.

"Because I want to stay here," Tim replied, still staring at the screen, but not seeming to comprehend what he was looking at.

"Why?"

"Because I don't think I want to go home."

"You don't?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't want it to become real."

"What to become real?"

"The…" suddenly Tim seemed to finally wake up and realize what was going on. He quickly started typing on his keyboard again. "Nothing, just forget it."

"Tim… I don't understand. Why are you here? And what does it have to do with you still being here?"

"Nothing, just go home Tony," Tim replied, while still typing.

"No, I'm not going home. You need to tell me what's going on."

Tim didn't seem to hear his last sentence. He was furiously typing and reading things on his computer. He was muttering something softly, but Tony couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Listen, if you're not going to tell me what's going on, I'm going to call Gibbs. Something's wrong, and if you're not talking to me, you're going to talk to Gibbs," Tony said, with a mix of frustration and concern. Frustrated because Tim was not talking to him and concerned because he knew that something was wrong.

"No!" Tim suddenly yelled out. "Don't call him. Nothing is wrong. I'm just working on this cold case. See?" He held up the casefile for the cold case he was working on.

"But why?"

"Because I want to solve it," Tim said matter of fact, while turning his gaze back to the screen. "I just started on this case and I think I've almost solved it! Isn't that awesome?"

"Sure, Tim. So, you're going home after you solve it?"

"No, I have a lot more cold cases that I can work on, right here," Tim said, pointing at a big pile of casefiles.

"I still don't understand why, Tim. You don't like working on cold cases. Why would you voluntarily work on a bunch of cold cases at night?"

"Just because, Tony," Tim replied, back to his frantic typing on his keyboard. "Just go home. I'm fine."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," Tony quietly muttered. This had to stop, he decided. He was done playing nice. He walked over to Tim's desk.

"Look, I don't know what is going on, or why you won't tell me what is going on, but you have to go home."

He kneeled on the ground, looking for something. "Maybe tomorrow you'll want to talk about it. Maybe not, I don't know. But you're done here. Friday you can work on those cold cases." The typing on the keyboard didn't slow down or stop, indicating that Tim wasn't listening anymore.

"Aha!" he muttered under his breath. He stretched out his hand and grabbed the plug of Tim's computer.

"Tony! What are you doing! You just ruined everything I've been working on!"

Tim angrily got up from his chair and looked at Tony who was still on his knees on the ground. He got up and calmly wiped some dust from his pants.

"Sorry Tim," he started, but was quickly interrupted by Tim.

"No! You're not sorry! What is wrong with you!"

Now it was Tim's time to go down this his knees next to his desk. A couple of seconds later his computer started booting up again.

"Just go home!"

"No! I know there is something wrong and I want to know what! I don't know why you're acting so weird all of a sudden. First you seem zoned out or something, then you seem very sad and now you look like you want to kill me just because I turned your computer off!"

"NOTHING IS WRONG!" Tim suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs. "Stop worrying about me! I'm fucking fine! Everything's fine! Just leave me alone!"

Tim angrily walked away in the direction of the restrooms.

Tony was about to go after him, until he decided against it. He needed time to think and calm down first. He sat down at Tim's desk and looked around. Everything looked normal, nothing that would upset him. He picked up a few things, looked in his drawers, but couldn't find anything that would get such a reaction out of Tim. So it had to be something unrelated to work, he thought. But what could upset Tim so much outside of work? Things that mattered most to him, were his family, his writing and his work. Nothing happened at work, so that was not it. His books also couldn't be the problem, because he just told them yesterday that he was coming along with his book really well. So that couldn't be the problem either. So it probably was something with his family. But what could get Tim so upset all of sudden, that has to do with family? Suddenly Tony realized. Of course! Why didn't he think of this earlier! He got up and walked over to the men's restrooms. He walked in and saw Tim sitting on the ground against a wall on the opposite side. All the anger had faded from his face and seemed to have been replaced with sadness. He was staring down at his shoes, seeming to be in deep thought.

"Tim?" Tony asked.

It took a few seconds, before Tim seemed to have realized that Tony was there.

"Please just go."

"But I want to help."

"You can help by leaving. Please. Everything was fine, until you came."

"Tim, you were working on cold cases at eleven pm. You were not doing fine."

Tim didn't reply.

"Something happened, didn't it?"

"Tony, what are you talking about, nothing…" but Tony interrupted him.

"Something with your family."

Suddenly Tim looked up, looking confused and shocked.

"Why would you think,… I mean, how do you know,… uhm… no… no… you're wrong. Nothing happened," Tim's face slowly seemed to be turning pale, which confirmed what Tony had been thinking. Something did happen with his family.

"Tim, whatever happened, you can talk to me, you know that right?"

Tim was still staring in shock at Tony, he seemed very shocked that Tony had figured it out.

"Tim," Tony had started again, but wasn't able to finish, because suddenly Tim quickly got up and ran into the nearest stall. A few seconds later, Tony could hear Tim throwing up in the toilet.

Tony sighed sadly. Whatever had happened, it was having a huge impact on Tim. He slowly walked over to the stall Tim was in and softly put his hand on Tim's shoulder to try and show some support, while he was on the ground with his head hanging over the toilet. It took a couple of minutes before the throwing up eventually stopped. It was quiet for a few seconds. Tony didn't really know what to do. His hand was still on Tim's shoulder and Tim was still hunched over, over the toilet. Suddenly Tony felt Tim's shoulder starting to shake a little. Worried, he crouched on the ground to be able to take a better look at Tim, while still keeping his hand on Tim's shoulder, hoping that it was offering some kind of comfort. It was awkward trying to squeeze himself between Tim and the door of the stall, but he finally made it to the ground next to him. When he looked at Tim's face he was shocked to see tears streaming down his face. He'd never seen Tim cry before. Without thinking about it, he started moving his hand over Tim's shoulders and back, hoping that this would offer even more comfort.

"Come on, Tim. Let's get you out of here. You can rinse your mouth, wash your face a little and then we can talk, okay? You're not doing fine. Don't try to convince me otherwise, we're not having that discussion again."

Tony removed his hand from Tim's back and got up.

"Come on," he said, while grabbing a hold of Tim's right arm. He started to gently pull on Tim's arm, indicating that he wanted Tim to get up.

Slowly, Tim started getting up. Silently, he walked out of the stall and over to the sink. He rinsed his mouth and washed his face.

"I'll take you to my place. We can talk there, okay? No reason to stay here."

"No, I want to stay here. I want to work on those cold cases some more," Tim said softly. Seeming drained of all energy, but still not wanting to leave.

"What is up with you and those cold cases? What is so important about them?"

"Nothing, I just want to work on them… they're a nice distraction."

If not for the absolute silence in the restroom, Tony probably wouldn't have heard the last bit of what Tim had said.

"A distraction from what?"

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing. You just said it's a distraction from something. I want to know what." After a couple of moments of silence, he added: "Is it a distraction from whatever happened in your family?"

"Nothing happened, Tony! Quit talking about that!" Tim replied.

"Listen, I'm done playing nice. If you don't want to tell me what happened, fine. I'm just going to try to guess, then," Tony said, getting very frustrated with the fact that this conversation didn't seem to be going anywhere useful.

"Something happened with your family, right?"

Tim just turned his gaze down to the floor.

"Okay. So that's a yes. It must be something serious, or you wouldn't have reacted the way you did."

Silence again. It stayed silent for a couple of seconds. Tony was dreading to say what he was thinking, but he knew he had to ask.

"Tim… did someone from your family… pass away?"

More silence. Tony looked at Tim and didn't dare to say anything else. Suddenly Tim's shoulders seemed to start shaking a little bit. Tony still didn't say anything, not really knowing what he should do. A few seconds later he saw some droplet of water dripping down Tim's nose on to the floor. He was crying.

Tony felt a pang of guilt, but he knew that he was doing the right thing, so he didn't act on the guilt.

"Do you want to tell me who died, Tim?"

Ugh, stupid question, Tony thought. Of course he doesn't want to tell me, or he would've done it already. Just as Tony was thinking about rephrasing that question, Tim said something.

"My… dad."

Now it was Tony's turn to be silent. He didn't know how to react to that. He hadn't been expecting that. To be honest, he hadn't really known what to even expect, but it was certainly not this.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Tim," he started, not really knowing if those were the right things to say.

"I'm sure he was a great man…" Tony continued, when he was interrupted by Tim.

"No, he wasn't."

"What do you mean?"

"He was a horrible father."

"Oh."

Silence.

"But… uhm… why are you so sad, if you didn't like him?" Tony asked, very confused.

"I'm not sure I want to talk about this," Tim said, while wiping tears of his face. "Sorry, I'm such an idiot. I don't want to drag you into my troubles."

Tim grabbed another paper towel, wiped off the remaining tears still on his face and threw it in the trashcan.

"You're right, I should just go home. This is stupid. I don't know why I thought that staying here and working on some cold cases would distract me from the death of my own dad."

Tim walked to the door of the restroom, while still talking, although Tony wasn't sure if he was talking to him anymore.

"I'm an idiot. What was I thinking? Staying here? Like that would solve anything. I guess I'll never learn. I'm always going to be this stupid, and-"

The door closed after Tim left, while he was still talking, leaving a stunned Tony behind. Now, confused as ever Tony walked out of the restroom, after Tim.

"Wait, Tim! You're not stupid. Your dad just passed away. Now I don't know what kind of relationship you had with him or what kind of person he was, but obviously he meant a lot to you so-"

But Tony was interrupted by Tim who'd stopped walking towards his desk and angrily looked at Tony.

"Exactly! He meant a lot to me! Don't you see that that's the problem here? I shouldn't care about him, but I do!"

Tim turned back around and continued walking towards his desk.

Tony was close to desperation now. Tim wasn't making any sense and he didn't know how to help.

Tim angrily grabbed his bag and coat from his desk and started making his way to the elevator.

"Stop it Tim!"

Tony walked over to Tim and grabbed his arm to stop him from going to the elevator.

"Talk to me!"

Tim turned around, looking furious, dropping his coat and bag in anger.

"You want me to talk? Okay, I'll talk! My dad was a piece of shit! He hated me. It didn't matter what I did, he was always mad at me. He hated that I get seasick so easily, he hated that I had good grades, he hated that I wasn't tough like him, he hated everything about me. And he didn't mind telling me what a horrible son and disappointment I was. He has called me every name in the book. And when calling me names stopped being good enough for him, he started to get physical. I've had so many bruises and injuries, it's a miracle that the teachers at school didn't notice anything. Or maybe they knew, but agreed with what my dad was doing, I don't know. My mom didn't do anything either. She just let it happen. Every time I tried to talk to her, she'd tell that it was my fault that my dad was so angry at me and that I should just try to be a better son. Sarah tried to help, but she couldn't do anything. Thankfully I moved out the day I turned eighteen. After that I only saw him at birthdays, weddings and funerals. But even then, he didn't pass up the opportunity to tell me what a disappointment I was..."

Tim seemed to take a moment, to process everything he'd just told Tony, but then started talking again.

"So my dad was a horrible shit dad! I should hate him, right? I'm sure that's what you're thinking right now! But you know what the funny thing is? The funniest thing about this whole stupid situation? I don't hate him! I mean, I hate what he did when I was younger, but I still don't hate him. Ever since I moved out, I've still been trying to get him to be proud of me. Every time I saw him, I hoped that he'd tell me that he's proud, or that he at least approved of the things that I'd been doing. But he didn't. Every single time that I saw him, he'd make sure to tell me what a piece of shit I was. But I didn't care. I still hoped that someday he'd be proud of the things that I've accomplished."

Tim's voice got sadder, tears seemed to be forming in his eyes.

"And now, it's too late. He's… dead. He died hating me. But I don't hate him. I just wanted him to be proud of me, but it never happened… and it never will."

Tony didn't move or say anything. He wanted to, but he didn't know what he could do to make Tim feel better. He wasn't even sure, how he was supposed to react to the fact that Tim hadn't had a very good childhood. He didn't know why, but he'd always assumed that Tim had been the lucky one of the team. That his childhood had been good. That he had had a good home. But it hadn't been. And it made him incredibly sad to hear that his coworker and good friend had to go through a tough childhood.

"Tim," he started carefully. "I understand…" but he was cut off by Tim.

"No! You don't understand!" Tim yelled. "I should hate him! Don't you see? He was horrible, how could I not hate him?"

Tim looked angrily at Tony, seeming to demand an answer from him.

"Tim… who are you mad at?"

"At me of course! I'm the idiot who was hoping for some kind of miracle! That one day, maybe my dad wasn't going to tell me how much of a disappointment I was. That he might even tell me that he's proud of the things that I've done. Of course that wasn't ever going to happen, but I still hoped for it. Every single time I saw him, I hoped that he would say something nice. Every time I talked to him on the phone, I hoped that he would tell me that he doesn't hate me. But it never happened. And now, any chance of that ever happening is gone."

"But Tim… it was your dad. It's not wrong or weird to hope for things like that. It'd be weird if you didn't."

"But I'm an adult now. I should've known better."

"No, that doesn't matter. It doesn't matter how old you get, he was still your dad. Everyone wants their parents to be proud."

"But… he was so horrible…" Tim replied softly, staring down at the floor, now trying to avoid looking at Tony.

"That still doesn't matter Tim. It doesn't change the fact that he was still your dad. I mean… granted, he wasn't a very good one, from what I've just heard, but he was still your dad. And you wanted him to be proud of you. But he wasn't."

That last part got a small, quick inhale of breath out of Tim, but he still stared at the floor.

"Tim."

Tim didn't look up.

"Tim look at me. I want to know that you're going to hear what I'm about to say."

Tony put his hands on Tim's shoulders for emphasis. That got Tim to look up at Tony.

"Listen very carefully and please try to believe me."

No reaction from Tim, but he could see that Tim was listening.

"I didn't know your dad, but I do know you. I know that you're on of the best people that I have ever worked with. You are very good at your job, you worked very hard to get here and you are one of the most kind-hearted people I've ever met. There are so many good things to say about you, that I honestly don't know how your dad managed to say any negative things about you. Your dad was so wrong in treating you like this. You didn't deserve any of it. He was your dad. He should have been supportive and proud of the things you did, but he wasn't and that wasn't right. So I get that you're mad at him. And I also understand that, even though he was so horrible to you, you still hoped that one day he'd change his mind. It wasn't wrong for you to still hope for that, because it's something that he should've been doing anyway. He's your dad Tim. Everyone wants their parents to be proud of them and the things that they're doing."

"But…"

"No buts Tim. I understand that it sucks to feel this way. But it's still how you feel and it's not wrong."

Tim's eyes were full of tears. Tony's hands were still on Tim's shoulders and he could feel that slowly but surely, Tim's shoulders were starting to shake. And very expectantly Tim leaned forward into Tony, letting his head drop on Tony's shoulder and started to cry. Tony could feel his shoulder getting wet, very quickly, but he didn't care. He wrapped his arms around Tim and just held him, while he softly sobbed into Tony's shoulder. He didn't move or say anything. He just wanted Tim to be able to let it all out.

It took a couple of minutes, but eventually Tim's sobbing subsided. After a couple more minutes Tim had become quiet. He felt Tim softly pulling away. Tony let go of him, but still kept his hands on his shoulders, not quite ready to let Tim go completely.

Tim's eyes were red and a little swollen, some tears were still on his cheeks, which he shakily wiped away.

"Sor-" he started softly, but immediately got cut off by Tony.

"Don't you dare say that Tim. No apologies."

Tim nodded. "Thank you."

"Of course, Tim. That's what friends are for."

Tim nodded again, looking very tired.

"When did you hear the news about your dad?" Tony asked.

"Last night. Sarah called me."

"Have you slept after that?"

"No."

"Come on, I'll take you home. You look exhausted."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Tim replied.

Tony finally let go of Tim's shoulders and quickly walked back to his desk to grab his keys and walked back to where Tim stood near the elevator.

While waiting for the elevator to come back up, he heard Tim suddenly softly laughing.

"Wait," Tim started, "Did you forget your keys again, Tony? Is that why you were here?"

Tony's face turned a bright red. "No… of course not!"

This made Tim laugh even harder. "Ha! How many times is that this week, four?"

Tony felt a bit annoyed at the fact that Tim was laughing at him, but didn't say anything about it. He was just happy to see Tim smiling again.

So, annoyed, but also happy and relieved that Tim was going to be okay, he and Tim stepped into the elevator. While the elevator was going down he was thinking about how this evening hadn't gone the way the way he had been expecting it to go. He hadn't expected to be back at at work today and he certainly hadn't expected to find Tim there. But he was happy that he did. So maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that he was so forgetful after all.

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**I wrote this as a one-shot. I'm not sure if I should add a next chapter/part with the funeral, though. What do you guys think? Let me know if you want more of this particular story.**


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